


Malleable

by bi_functional



Series: Golden Boy [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Abusive Mage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depressed Simon Snow, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, POV Alternating, Pre-Slash, Simon Snow is smart, Simon is lowkey gay for Baz, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Watford Sixth Year, litterly my first time publishing a fic, lot's of symbolism if you squint, only mentioned - Freeform, this takes place way before Carry On, we're just not gonna talk about it yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23332219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi_functional/pseuds/bi_functional
Summary: It’s been a month since I realized insulting the things I love about Snow makes my feelings easier to deal with.It’s been a day since I actually looked at Snow after muttering these vile words. The ones that burn my tongue, and stick to the roof of my mouth. A day since I looked at Snow and saw his expression crumble, and his eyes fall heavy. It’s been a day since I’ve seen his seat vacant at meal times, and it’s been five minutes since I told myself not to go looking for him.Or Baz decides the way to cope with his feelings is to turn everything he loves into something to insult Simon with and doesn't realize that maybe Simon agrees.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Golden Boy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677916
Comments: 19
Kudos: 141





	Malleable

**Author's Note:**

> so, being stuck in quarantine I finally decided why the hell not publish a fic and see how it goes? Right? no harm. It's also lowkey just me venting and self projecting onto Simon so sorry about that.  
> Tw for mentions of self harm, and mentions of abuse, stay safe loves!!

**Baz**

It’s been a month since I realized insulting the things I love about Snow makes my feelings easier to deal with. His golden curls, the delicate bronze of his skin and the freckles that reside there like constellations, the ordinary blue of his eyes and the slight quirk of his lips when he’s not quite sure what’s going on. 

It’s easier. 

“Stop staring at me Snow, you’re going to give yourself a headache if that’s something you can manage at all with one braincell.” I’d spit at him during class. 

“Snow, do you ever try to make yourself presentable?” I’d scoff, Dev and Niall snickering beside me. 

“Snow it’s as if you’ve got dirt on your cheek just there, oh, my bad it’s just your _skin_ ,” Taunt after taunt, uncaring of the effect, unwilling to meet his eyes as I fled from each situation with an aching heart. Too consumed in acting the part I was _supposed_ to be, rather than being who I wanted. 

It’s been a day since I actually looked at Snow after muttering these vile words. The ones that burn my tongue, and stick to the roof of my mouth. A day since I looked at Snow and saw his expression crumble, and his eyes fall heavy. It’s been a day since I’ve seen his seat vacant at meal times, and it’s been five minutes since I told myself not to go looking for him. 

_Of course_ , I think to myself as I walk towards our dorm, _I’ve always been a masochist_. I don’t know what I had been expecting to find, unsure of whether or not he’d even be in the room, but I wasn’t prepared for Simon crouched in the tightest nook between our beds, sobbing near silently as he tried in vain to fold himself inwards. 

He looked up at the sound of the door, and I found myself swallowing harshly against the emotion that pushed its way up my throat. 

“Here to say something else Baz?” he asks, purely dejected as his blue eyes find mine. 

_I didn’t mean any of it,_ I want to scream, I want to be vulnerable and let tears chase my smile as it vanishes for crowley knows how long. I want to drop to my knees and pull him into my arms and not let go till death pulls me from him. (I try not to think of how he’d push me into the arm’s of death, but a part of me wonders if I should. Think those things, as a punishment.) 

Instead I sit slowly on my bed, watching him, making sure to keep my expression open enough for him to know I wasn’t going to say anything else to hurt him. 

“Snow,” I find myself saying, “I thought you were built from Gold. I didn’t think I could touch you.” 

“Gold is the most malleable metal, so easily beaten into whatever shape the owner of the hammer deems worthy.” the words are spoken so softly and with such eloquence, it’s hard to believe they’re coming from Snow at all. Suddenly, I’m swallowing again. “I used to believe that being this-- this golden _thing_ meant I could conquer anything. I could touch _anything_ .” He took a shuddering breath, a chuckle spilling from his lips though his face held no humor. “The mage quickly soiled the idea. _I will make you whatever I wish you to be, Simon, and you will be nothing less._ ” The words were recited, I swallowed harder. “Penny says I should be who I want to be. She was furious after she’d found out. I’m usually good at explaining things away, at side tracking her concern,” It was then I noticed Simon’s gaze landed sternly on his arm where a kaleidoscope of colours had bloomed across his wrist. Blues, purples, yellows, painting the flesh like a night sky. I felt my eyes widen as I noticed a distinct shape framing the skyline. “He’s never left a hand mark before.” His lips quivered, and before I could think, I was on my knees, hands shaking in front of me as I pulled my wand from my jacket sleeve. He flinched at the sight of it, but I shook my head. 

“Simon,” I whispered helplessly, and his eyes locked with mine, widening slightly. 

“I don’t want you to.” He mumbled. 

“I didn’t mean the things I said,” I try desperately, bent on healing _something._ “I thought if I said those things, if I was who you wanted me to be then it would be easier.” 

His eyes seemed to sink lower, and a pink tongue was wetting his lips. 

“Who do you think I wanted you to be?” He asks softly, eyes searching and helpless. 

“The villain.” I answer immediately. He shakes his head in return, and I furrow my brows in confusion. 

“I have enough villains in my life,” He starts miserably. “The care homes, the kids at care, The Humdrum, the-- the-- well… I don’t know if the Mage is a villain, but he’s not… _good_ … Baz I just wanted you to be a friend.” He’s crying again and I begin to wonder the last time he cried. The last time I saw, or _made_ him cry. I can only remember a few times in our first year. 

“I’m sorry.” I say, and the emotions are leaking through, I can’t seem to swallow fast enough. “I thought… I thought hating the things I liked about you would make this easier. If I twisted all the things that I… that I _appreciated_ about you then it wouldn’t hurt as much.” A slight truth passes my lips, my eyes closing against the pools of blue. Afraid that if I drown in them, I won’t be able to pull him to shore. 

“I can’t blame you for that,” He whispers. “I’ve felt quite the same way these past few months.” I hold my tongue when I want to argue. “I’ve turned around all the things I admire about you too. Thought that maybe if I told myself I hated them then I actually would. I… I’ve done the same things to you for years, but you’re so strong Baz. It’s my fault for-- for _pretending_ to be this strong chosen one, when I can’t even have good thoughts about myself.” 

“You… you believed what I’ve been saying,” I realize, a dreadfulness seeping into my lungs. 

“I’m not good enough Baz, everyone’s told me so. Except Penny, I think she’s too nice to say it.” Simon mumbles, blinking away more tears. 

“What about Agatha?” I prod hopefully, but he squeezes his eyes shut. “Oh, Simon.” I move to cradle his wrist between my fingers, silently tracing the abused flesh. I raise my wand slowly but he quickly yanks his arm back. I feel a heavy weight settle on my shoulders and I make sure to put distance between us, but before I fully settle away from him, a warm hand is settled on my knee. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to point your wand at me Baz,” He assures softly. “I do, you’re a brilliant magician, and a brilliant friend.” I raise an eyebrow at him, he smiles weakly in return. “I talk to Niall sometimes, and the first years like to talk.” he explains, giving me a pointed look. I turn away, flustered, but not enough to let it show. (part of me believes he sees it anyway.) “But if you heal this, you’d have to heal them all.” he says slowly, fingers twitching. “And I’ve found that I quite like the ache. It grounds me.” 

_Heal them all. I quite like the ache_. The words ring sharply around my skull and I find myself flinching back from him. 

“Are there…” I swallow thickly, wondering how this night got so heavy. Wondering how I didn’t notice these signs, desperate in my own ignorance to hide my feelings. 

He simply responds with a sad smile, getting up shakily. He reaches a hand out to me, for help, for support, I suppose. I take it, but I don’t have the intention to stand. My throat has run dry, and tears escape from their prison as his grip tightens. 

“Baz it’s not-- You didn’t--” he flounders and lowers himself in front of me once again. “It’s not your fault. This has been-- it’s been going on a long time.” He tries to explain, but I shut my eyes against him once more. 

“I just wish things were different,” I find myself saying and he holds my hand tighter in response. 

“They can be,” he suggests, and I open my eyes to read his expression. 

**Simon**

Baz is looking at me like I can solve anything with my next few words. I find myself _wanting_ to do that for him. 

“Let’s just… be friends ok?” I beg, I never thought I’d beg Baz for anything, let alone this. But it doesn’t feel wrong so I’m not complaining. 

There’s a part of me that’s saying I should be mad at him, for all the things he’s said, but I know I’ve done worse. Stalked him, harassed him, pushed him, we’re two sides of the same coin. It’s never been real anyway, more of a game. It’s not his fault if his shots hit too close to home. It’s not his fault I already knew everything he’d been saying was true. 

“Snow we’ve been at each other's throats since the beginning no one would--” 

“Then just in here.” I suggest, squeezing his hand for good measure, and finding a small warmth when his eyes glance down at them. “I know your reputation and your family, it’s hard.” I pause, thinking of what the Mage would do if he saw me being friendly with Baz. “I--” I try to tell him, to open up to him about it, but the words get stuck in my throat. It’s as if I’ve used up all my words for the night, they’re becoming harder to force out. 

“Just in here,” Baz whispers softly, beginning to rub his thumb across my knuckles and bringing a soft sigh from my lips. He looks distant, and I frown. 

“What’s in your head?” I ask, and his eyes slowly meet mine. 

“You,” he murmurs, pushing himself to stand and tugging me up with him. He falls onto his bed, and I’m more than surprised when he uses our joint hands to pull me with him. 

“What about me?” I ask, turning my face towards our ceiling, wishing it wasn’t so boring. A beige that makes the room sit still in it’s static. 

“About the injuries and marks you must have covering your body and mind,” He hums softly. “I’ve always worried I would push you too hard. I didn’t really consider you or the Mage would end up doing it before me.” 

I frown and rub my free hand down my thigh absentmindedly, where all the smaller scars are. 

_“I don’t care what you do to yourself Simon,” the mage threw my bandaged arm down to my side. “It’s just embarrassing. If you’re going to do it, do it where no one will notice. I will not stand for you disgracing me.”_

I had been thirteen, thinking that if I injured myself enough, if I got enough attention, the Mage would come for me and bring me away. I would have been taken away from the home and to his cottage in the woods, content for him to teach me little lessons and make me dinner. But the Mage hadn’t come, and upon arriving at school he’d only yelled for hours about me embarrassing him. I only got a night in a hospital and a scar that hadn’t faded till last year. I knew better than to hurt where people could see after that. 

“Snow? _Simon?_ ” Baz’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I found my attention drifting to his worried silver eyes, instead of the beige ceiling. 

“Sorry, lost in thought,” I mumble, watching his features pinch into a frown. 

“If I learned anything from this evening it’s that that is not a good thing,” I shrug and his eyes narrow. “Do… do you want to talk about it?” 

I shrug again, suddenly overwhelmed with how much I’ve already dumped on him this evening. I try not to talk so much, but sometimes when I do it feels as though I don’t stop until no one will want to hear me speak ever again. 

Instead of the aggravated response I was expecting, (Baz had always been infuriated by my shrugs) he nods and begins to rub his thumb against my knuckles once more. 

“Want to shower and bed then?” He asks softly, and I smile to myself thinking that maybe we know each other a lot better than we let on. 

I nod and push myself off his bed, staring at our hands as he sits up to keep them clasped. I don’t want to let go, I realize with a miserable dread. I can’t afford to tell him that though, not yet. But if his raised eyebrow and pursed lips are anything to go off of, he doesn’t want to either. 

“I’m worried if I let go, that you’ll float away,” he murmurs, expression calculating as he waits for my reaction to his slight vulnerability. 

“Gold is a _heavy_ metal Baz,” I respond with a smile, a true smile. One that sends a warmth from the tips of my fingers to my chest. “I’ll stay right where you can reach me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> well, like I said, I've never published a fic before here or otherwise but my drive is overflowing with works. This actually might be part of a series since I like the concepts I've built up as well as the Simon=Gold thing sooo, positive feedback would be nice? Constructive criticism? Litterly anything, I'm dying. 
> 
> come chat with me on Tumblr !!


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